


🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

by Pinkmanite



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Butt Plugs, M/M, Mostly Pwp, Reaction, jake muzzin's apparently famous giant dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-22 17:56:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkmanite/pseuds/Pinkmanite
Summary: Jake Muzzin sure as hell is a Toronto Maple Leaf.Willy just makes it official.





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**Author's Note:**

> This is purely a reaction fic for the ANA@TOR game on February 4, 2019; aka Jake Muzzin's first goal/points as a Leaf (1G, 2A), and a drought-ending game for William Nylander (1G, 1A). Had me feeling some Ways(TM).

Jake hasn’t been here long but. He’s heard rumors, of course he has. William Nylander’s kind of a hushed legend like that.

It’s kind of the never-confirmed, not-so-secret secret, whispered cautiously around the league. But here, in the heart of it, it’s like the punchline that no one ever full out says, an implication that’s never called by name. 

It’s just knowing smiles, sentences that trail off, dry laughs. 

Maybe even a wink from Willy — the man, the myth, the legend — himself. 

It’s only been a few days and Jake is admittedly a little overwhelmed. Not like, actually. But with the way  _ it _ seems to be both such a thing and not, like it’s ever-present but in the background, not anything remarkable, not a big deal.

Well. Every team has their quirks, and Jake figures he’ll have plenty more time for the weirdness to wear off enough for him to accept it like everyone else has.

But then they play the Ducks, which should probably be oddly poetic. Of all the possible matchups for one of his first game out of LA, of course it’s the Ducks. It’s whatever, Jake rolls with it, goes out there and plays with the Maple Leafs boasted on his chest. 

Only then does all hell breaks loose. 

It’s a complete blowout. Jake manages to grab a handful of points and a pretty sweet goal. He dishes out some nice hits, draws some solid penalties. It’s one of the best games he’s played in a long while, and even he’ll even admit it, it feels  _ pretty _ fucking good.

“Muzz played so good tonight we’re probably gonna see him on Legends Row tomorrow,” Morgan Rielly says to his scrum but shouts it loud enough that Jake hears. When he looks, Morgan’s waiting for him, laughs when they make eye contact. The press laughs along, too, and Jake can’t help but grin. 

The team’s been pretty good, been going out of their way to make him feel welcome. It’s nice, really nice, because in all honesty, Jake didn’t know what to expect, entering a well-tuned locker room midseason. But the Leafs,  _ his  _ Leafs now, have already gone above and beyond for him. 

It’s easy, when the press surrounds him, for Jake to let the  _ we _ slip out naturally, because this team really, truly feels like  _ his _ already. Crazy, what some good guys and a hearty win will do for you.

So when some of the guys start rallying for everyone to go out, Jake figures a couple drinks for an hour or so won’t hurt. After all, he’s still keyed up and riding the adrenaline of a good game. Wouldn’t hurt to celebrate a bit, get some team bonding in. Easy enough to justify. 

It’s a rowdy time, some club he’s been to a few times before but that the rest of team seems to be pretty familiar with. The place is dark, lowlit with thrummy bass, but they have a table in a VIP section that’s a little quieter. They pack it full, some overflowing straight onto the dance floor. And although Jake’s still learning his teammates, the situation feels familiar and routine enough to be comfortable. 

It’s a young team, and Jake knew this, but it becomes so much more apparent when the rounds start piling up and he’s offered more than a few free welcome-slash-goal-slash-just-because shots. 

It’s very nice of them, and Jake really does appreciate the gesture, but he’s old enough to know his limit, wise enough to know he’ll stick to his two beers and forget about trying to keep up with the young guys. 

This is reaffirmed when he graciously declines a shot from Mitch Marner, who shrugs and lines it up to take it himself, slinking it down behind his own, all without flinching. Some of the other ones, Auston Matthews, Connor Brown, follow through. Morgan Rielly and Nazem Kadri follow along, not quite as intensely, but still keeping up well enough.

So it’s a little surprising (yet, given everything he’s  _ heard, _ somehow not surprising at all) when he sees William Nylander, nursing a mixed drink a few seats down. He’s deliberately pacing it, more content to watch his friends being ridiculous.

And — when Jake accidentally catches his eye — perhaps more content to watch other things (or people), too. 

Willy takes a long sip from his drink then sets it down with an air of finality. He looks at Jake again, meaningfully this time, and doesn’t break eye contact while he stands.

He doesn’t come to him, not immediately. He stops to ruffle Andreas Johnson’s hair, gets in dangerously close to whisper something in his ear, something that makes Andreas’s eyes go wide and his face pink up. 

But Willy leaves him like that, spares a knowing glance in Jake’s direction, then moves on to his next subject.

It’s Mitch, who’s dancing loosely in the space of dance floor nearest to their table. He’s surrounded by a natural crowd, magnetic charm amped up to the highest setting. Willy isn’t immune, but Jake’s pretty sure that he doesn’t want to be. 

He doesn’t watch Willy too closely, not once he wiggles his way into the crowd, but he catches glimpses of him, grinding against Mitch, using the crowd as his excuse to get pressed up close, even though a close enough look makes his intentions obvious enough. 

Mitch is into it, seems like he’s pretty accustomed to it, even. His hands slot at Willy’s hips like they know how to fit, their rhythm and movements synced seamlessly. Jake sips at his beer, tries to look around the room at other things. 

Auston slides into the space next to him, throws an arm around his shoulders. “It’s alright, you know,” he says into his ear. “Everyone watches Willy. Don’t feel weird.”

“I’m not—” Jake starts then stops, figuring it’s useless. Auston’s grin seems to agree. “So it’s true, then?”

Auston shrugs, but there’s a glint in his eye. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He leaves then, laughing to himself before disappearing into the crowd, too. 

Despite Auston’s assurances, Jake tries to distract himself from Willy’s dirty dancing. It’s easy to sip his drink and get into the conversation with some of the other, older guys. It’s usual talk, pretty light, but the subject of William Nylander still manages to come up.

“You looking forward to your chance with Willy?” John Tavares says, quieter than before. “I know I was.”

Jake tries to keep a neutral face. “So the rumors?”

Freddie Andersen shrugs, almost an exact mirror of Auston’s before. “Depends on what rumors you’ve heard.” But then he leans in close. “But if they’re like the ones I heard before coming here? Correct.”

Swallowing, Jake’s about to ask another question, but they’re interrupted by some of their guys returning the table. Including, speak of the devil, Willy himself. 

It’s very deliberate and pretty obvious, the way Willy goes out of his way to make space so he can sit right next to Jake. He isn’t shy, easily slinking up next to him and getting in his space. 

The conversation continues normally, just with Willy piping up now, too. Jake finds it easy to fall back into it, to let Willy inch impossibly closer, little by little. They get to a point where the table all laughs at once, more than comfortable. Apparently comfortable enough for Willy to grab Jake’s beer and finish it off. 

That must be some kind of cue, because Freddie and John stand, start to shrug on their coats. “I think we’re gonna head out.” They make for their escape. “Welcome to the team, Muzz.”  

Most of the other guys seem to have filtered out or wandered off, too. It’s just him and Willy, now, which Willy seems particularly aware of.

He puts his hand on Jake’s thigh, deliberate.

“You know about me,” Willy says right up in his ear, hot and low, “right?” 

Jake swallows.

Jake nods.

 

~

 

The minute Willy unlocks his front door, Jake’s being pulled in and shoved against the wall. Willy doesn’t waste time, presses into his front and leans up just that extra little bit until he can kiss him, wet and dirty and desperate. 

Jake lets it go on like that for a second, just to get a feel for Willy’s style. But as soon as there’s a dip, Jake grasps the opportunity like he grasps Willy’s shoulders, uses the leverage the switch them around. He keeps Willy pinned against the door, shoves a thigh between his.

Willy’s looking at him through his lashes, watching him carefully, but curious. 

“You like running things, don’t you,” Willy pokes at him, impish. But then he blinks, sweet. “Good game, have me however you like, you earned it.” 

Jake doesn’t say anything back, but he goes in then, one hand firm on Willy’s hip, the other holding his chin, angling him in just the right ways he wants. He doesn’t hesitate, their teeth clash together and it’s a little messy but then Willy moans from under him and it’s wonderful. 

“Jake,” Willy manages, panting when they part for air, “bed, come on, bed.”

And, well. When he asks so nicely, who is Jake to deny him? So Jake lets up a little, lets Willy wiggle free until he can tug at Jake’s arm and pull him down the hallway, into his bedroom. 

The kid doesn’t waste any time. The second he kicks the door shut he goes right to the nightstand. It’s almost crude, the way he tosses the bottle of lube and a strip onto the mattress, but weirdly enough, it turns Jake on even more. 

Willy turns and shrugs off his jacket, loosens his tie. He doesn’t stop eyeing up Jake, eventually looks at him pointedly. Jake realizes he’s just standing there, staring, and should probably start doing the same.

But.

Instead, he reaches out, bats Willy’s hands away where he’s started to undo the shirt button near his collar. He takes over without missing a beat, quickly popping each one down the line until he can push it off Willy’s shoulders, hands traced under the fabric and over his skin until it falls to the ground.

He feels Will’s hands on his hips, then, working his shirt until it untucks. He starts from the bottom, getting at each button. Jake helps him out, undoes his tie and slips it over his head. Eventually, he lets Willy tug his shirt off, helpfully moves his arms to shimmy it the rest of the way off. 

Willy’s hands go to his belt, then, and Jake is filled with a new rush of want.

He lets him fumble at it for a second, but in the end, Jake grabs his wrists, halting his efforts. He uses that leverage to push Willy onto the bed until he’s laid out for him, spread across the mattress like a display.

And he is, really, skin pale from midseason and littered with tiny bright bruises, maybe from hockey. Maybe not. But his lips are swollen red and wet, a stark contrast, and it’s perhaps quite a lot for Jake right now. 

Willy’s looking up at him, blinking innocently, so Jake tries to keep his cool. He holds his gaze while he finishes unbuckling his belt. It’s quick, muscle memory, and pretty soon he’s popping the clasp of his slacks and shoving those off, too. 

“Fuck,” Willy says, clearly focused on the bulge at the front of Jake’s briefs. “So it’s true?”

Jake raises a brow. “You’re one to talk.”

Willy blushes then, a nice light pink that dusts so easily over his cheekbones, the tips of his ears. It’s confirmation, enough.

Snapping back into it, perhaps fueled by the visual right there in front of him, Willy scrambles to get his own pants off, barely gets the buckle of his belt undone before he’s kicking his pants off completely. There’s a clear wet spot on Willy’s boxers, but he doesn’t seem to care, maybe even keen to show it off. 

“Eager for it, huh,” Jake says, low. Willy’s eyes flutter shut while he shudders, his thighs parting just a little bit further. Jake takes the invitation, knees his way onto the bed until he’s hovering over Willy and kissing him hot and dirty again.

Jake balances on one forearm, braced just to the side of Willy’s head, while he wedges his other hand between them. He rubs soft circles over Willy’s chest, over the dips and juts. It’s gradual, but eventually he brushes over one of Willy’s nipples.

Willy leans into it, can’t help but moan through their kisses. Jake swallows his sounds, concentrates more on and more on the nipple until he’s solely pinching it. Willy isn’t holding back, practically writhing beneath him. 

Jake trails kisses down, little nips along his jawline, down his chest, until he’s faced with the other one. Willy gasps before he even gets his mouth on it, the anticipation electric enough on its own. 

He tongues around it once, sloppy, then pulls back just enough to blow cold air on it, pleased when it perks up. 

“Fucking—” Willy chokes off. 

“I got you,” Jake hums, then dives back in.

Eventually, Jake stops playing with the one in his hand, switches his mouth over to it. He expertly continues while he searches for the lube, groping around the bedspread until he finds it. 

Jake doesn’t miss a beat, tugs Willy’s underwear down until he can kick them off himself. He continues, gets his fingers plenty drenched while he nudges Willy’s knees further apart. 

Except, when he goes to circle Willy’s hole, he feels something there. He can practically see Willy’s smirk before he even looks up.

“Prepared, eh?” Jake muses, breath still warm over Willy’s skin. He circles the base of the plug, gets his rim good and wet. 

Willy looks so fucking smug, doesn’t even hide how pleased he is with himself. He’s a teasing little thing, spreads his thighs even wider while knows he has Jake’s eyes on him. 

“Had a feeling,” he winks.

And,  _ wow _ , the little shit, Jake thinks, just a little endeared. But at the same time, Jake can’t wait to wipe that little grin off his face, can’t wait to take him apart until he’s a begging mess, not so cocky anymore. 

Determined now, Jake grabs the base and pulls it just enough out to push it back in with a lot more force. Sneaky, he bites down on Willy’s nipple at the same time. 

“Oh shit, oh _ shit, _ ” Willy groans, arching into it on instinct. Jake grins against his skin, then slides up until he can kiss him again. He uses the distraction of it to really pull at it now, nearly all the way out. Willy hisses, so Jake adds a little bit more lube, then drives it back in.

He pays close attention to Willy’s breath, uses it to gage each pull and push. He fucks him with the plug steadily, keeps it going for a good while until Willy’s squirming impatiently.

Jake considers for a second, but ultimately re-lubes a couple fingers and brings them to Willy’s hole again, fingertips light along the seam where the plug meets his skin. 

“I’m going to need to stretch you a little more,” Jake says, gentle, “if you’d like me to fuck you tonight.”

“Oh  _ fuck. _ ” Willy exhales through his nose. “Yeah, okay— yeah.”

Jake watches him shut his eyes, watches him try to prepare himself. He almosts asks again if Willy’s sure, but he thinks better of it. He lets Willy have the moment to go through his head, tugs off his own briefs. His dick bobs, finally free, and he’s hit with a new wave of want. He gets right to it.

It’s a delicate process, but Jake’s pretty well-practiced in it by now. He’s had enough time to learn how to work with what he has. So he puts his learnings to work.

He goes slow, carefully wedging his pointer finger in next to the plug. It’s one knuckle, a pause and a deep breath from Willy, then another knuckle, the same, and finally all the way in. He waits there, lets Willy get used to the feeling until he feels him relax.

“Good, good,” Jake murmurs, sucks lightly, markless, into Willy’s neck. “That’s it, baby.”

The next finger goes in a little easier, but Jake takes it even slower and extra careful. He repeats the process, tunes into Willy’s tells, and rubs soothing thumb-circles into his hip. 

Once he’s in all the way, once Willy’s breathing starts to even out, Jake carefully stretches him out, gentler now. Willy sighs contentedly, works with him to relax into it. But eventually he starts pushing back, greedy and whining.

“Come on,” Willy says, breathy, but still laced with his signature haughtiness. “I’m ready, I’m ready.”

Jake hums, but he complies, carefully removes each finger. It leaves the plug still held loosely inside of him, and the sight goes straight to Jake’s dick. He feels it twitch, and Willy must, too, because he groans, grinds his thigh into Jake’s crotch.

It’s not easy, but Jake tries to keep himself composed for just a little bit longer. He tugs the plug out of Willy without warning, doesn’t think much of the little hiss Willy lets out when it comes out with a  _ pop. _

That gets set to the side to be dealt with later. For now, Jake sits up all the way and grabs the strip of condoms. He tears one off, checks it over first, then tears it open. It rolls on easily enough, so he grabs for the lube again. 

“How do you want me?” Willy says from below him, propped up by his elbows. 

Jake considers it. “You should probably ride me.”

“Probably?” Willy says with his same boyish grin. 

“It’s usually the most comfortable,” Jake says patiently, jacks himself slick a couple of times while he says it. “For you, I mean.”

Willy shrugs. “Well, if that’s your recommendation,” he starts to shift, makes room for Jake to get settled. “I’ll take it.”

“Yeah,” Jake says, his own cocky grin this time. “You’ll certainly be taking it.”

With a huff, Willy rolls his eyes, but Jake doesn’t miss the hitch in his breath.

He rearranges some pillows, knees his way up the mattress, settles until he’s halfway propped up at the headboard and plenty comfortable. He looks to Willy, not quite expectant, but perhaps something similar. 

Willy laughs, light, and is quick to oblige. He swings one leg over Jake’s thighs, holds himself up by his knees. Jake, keen to push him, folds his arms behind his head, wordless. Willy flips his hair out of his face and leans forward just a little, one hand braced on Jake’s chest.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Jake hums. But then more seriously, “but for real, take your time. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Tch,” Willy scoffs, “I got this, don’t worry about me.”

Jake makes a face but lets the kid do his thing. Given his own confirmation of the rumors, he trusts that Willy knows well enough what he’s doing. And he’s not too far off because Willy takes Jake’s dick in hand, carefully but expertly lines it up with his entrance. 

He closes his eyes and focuses, and Jake suddenly feels like he’s watching a master at his trade, because Willy takes it slow and steady, but is firm with himself within his limit. 

It’s just the tip, when Willy takes his first pause. But it’s still tight and warm and a preview of what’s waiting for him, and honestly Jake just really has to focus on his breathing.

“How do you feel?” He still manages to ask, but probably less collected than he’d like to admit. 

Willy laughs a little, dry. “Holy shit you’re big.”

It’s Jake’s turn to scoff. “Well, I’ll say it again, take you time.”

He doesn’t mean it as a challenge, but Willy may or may not interpret it that way because he continues right away, gradually takes another inch, then another. He’s still careful, but he’s determined, and Jake for one is not going to stop him.

He doesn’t pause until he’s about halfway down. Jake carefully observes him, his breathing is labored but he’s otherwise fine. So Jake is mostly satisfied, feels like it’s acceptable to reach out and rub up and down Willy’s strained thighs. Willy relaxes into his touch and Jake is endeared.

“You can stop there,” Jake offers, gentle, but Willy shake his head. “No, really, just take what you need.” His hands move up until he’s gripping Willy’s hips, holding him in place. 

Willy inhales through his nose, then murmurs an acknowledgement. He’s so completely focused and it’s admittedly kind of cute. Jake watches him closely, takes it all in. 

He raises himself up, just a big, then tentatively back down, testing the waters. Jake tries his hardest to keep still, resists the urge to buck up into him, no matter how tempting. But he doesn’t have to wait very long because Willy gets a good pace going, gradually picking up speed while he adjusts the angle.

Jake keeps his grip light, still lets Willy control the pace and do most of the work, but he can’t help if he gets into a little, offers a little bit of a lift and tug. He doesn’t miss the way Willy melts into it.

He’s content to watch Willy work himself over on his cock, keen to watch him take his pleasure, earn it himself. The kid makes these sweet sounds, high little moans that blend into his breath. His hair falls over his forehead, messy and a little damp, but it makes him look so incredibly enticing that Jake can barely focus.

With Willy’s erection high and bobbing enthusiastically with his bounces, he takes a little bit more of Jake on every pass downward, just a tiny bit every time, but consistent. The kid clearly has a mission here, and Jake is more than happy to oblige. 

“Good, baby, so good,” Jake says, low. “You’re almost there, you can take it, you can get there.”

Willy groans then, eyes screwed shut. Precome leaks from his dick and Jake can’t help it, he reaches for it, takes the tip in his hand and smears it over the head. Willy whines and hangs his head, overwhelmed, but keeps his rhythm.

Jake is a little proud of him, and tells him so. “Perfect, baby, you’re perfect.”

And apparently that’s all the motivation that Willy needs, because he takes even more this time, pushes through a grunt and repeats it, eager to get all the way down. He’s nearly there, maybe a little less than an inch left. Jake is mesmerized, can’t look away from the spot where they connect, where his dick tugs at Willy’s stretched rim, already pink and swollen.

“Shit,” Jake lets slip, soft under his breath. Willy still catches it, though, the corner of his mouth upturned in the tune of his favorite little grin. That rises the challenge in Jake, so he tightens his grip on Willy’s hips, nearly bruising, and speaks up this time. “Take all of it, baby, I know you can take it.”

Willy bites his lip but he doesn’t back down, determined to get it in all the way on the next pass. Jake reads him quickly and makes the decision. When Willy goes down this time, he pulls him down by his grip, cants his own his hips up to meet him.

“Ah, ah…  _ hah, _ ” Willy keens, high little noises punched right out of him. His thighs tremble but his head’s thrown back and his dick twitches once, twice. Jake can’t help but get a little cocky, then, bucks up just a bit, just to grind in a little more. Willy nearly collapses on him right there.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Jake breathes out, which is true. There’s something special when he can get his whole cock in, because it doesn’t happen quite that often for him. The feeling of being completely surrounded in velvety heat, tightening and adjusting around him, hungry to take him in and in and in — Jake’s not quite used to it, but  _ fuck _ does it do something for him.

“Thanks,” Willy manages, “but you’re also literally huge.”

Jake smirks. “Thanks,” he mirrors. 

Willy’s really going for it now, coming down hard every time, now. His hand his slipped from Jake’s chest to his shoulder, grip tight and his nails digging little crests indented into his skin. Jake doesn’t mind, though, fine to swap them for the finger-shaped bruises he knows he’ll leave. 

“That’s all you got, Muzz?” Willy prods, cheeky, once he starts to pick up the pace. “I thought you were gonna give it to me.”

“Big words, kid,” Jake says. “Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

Willy looks him in the eye then squeezes around him, deliberate. He grins. “One way to find out.”

So Jake takes that as a cue, carefully waits for Willy to come all the way down on the next pass. Once their skin slaps together, Jake spurs into action. It’s not an easy maneuver, but he follows through, slides one hand back to support Willy’s body, then sits up quickly. 

It sends Willy falling into the mattress on his back, his eyes wide with the surprise, more than anything. Jake grins down at him, predatory, almost, and repositions himself. His dick never slips out, and for that alone, Jake calls it a success.

It’s like he never misses a beat, the way he gets back to fucking Willy thoroughly, now. Willy’s still recovering from getting the wind knocked out of him, so his breath comes labored and it’s apparent that he is finally, truly coming undone.

Jake keeps one hand on his hip, knocks Willy’s knees apart until his legs are splayed wide around him, open and wanton and inviting just for him. He uses his other hand to push down on Willy’s chest, keeps him pinned to the bed.

Little whimpers drip from Willy’s swollen red lips on every thrust. He’s out of his element, Jake can tell, not quite used to losing control over himself like this. He’s got an arm thrown over his eyes, embarrassed. 

But that won’t do, so Jake grabs his wrist, pins it to his chest so he can keep a grip on him and hold him down at the same time. “Look at me,” Jake keeps going, when Willy keeps his eyes shut. “I want you to look at me while I’m inside of you.”

“Fuck, fuck,” Willy reacts, slowly working them open. It takes a second but he listens, obeys. Jake knows he must be intense, but he keeps Willy’s gaze, drives in even harder. 

Willy lets out another labored breath, but doesn’t drop his eyes, straining to be good. “You’re so fucking big, I feel so full, oh my god.”

“Yeah?” Jake teases, pulls him into the next thrust. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you? Desperate for a good dicking, eh?”

“Fuck,” Willy squirms, his dick leaking a mess over his belly. “Please, just—  _ please. _ ”

“I got you,” Jake says, kinder now. He keeps Willy in place, but uses one hand to grip his dick, tugs it in long, tight strokes in time with his hips. Willy looks away this time, head thrown back, and Jake gives him the pass. 

“You gonna come on my cock like a good boy?” Jake pushes. “Show me you’re grateful, baby, come on my cock.”

And Willy comes then, Jake’s words going straight to his dick. He grips at the bedspread with his free hand, twists at it in his grip. He’s loud, high keening noises blended into curses. He practically arches off the bed, his come dripping all over his stomach and his chest.

It’s the sight of him; laid out and covered in his own mess, absolutely wrecked in every way. Jake is so fixated on him, so captivated by the picture in front of him. It’s not hard to follow after, driving all the way into Willy’s still-tight heat. 

He rides out his orgasm, grinds in and in until his balls are pressed tight against the curve of Willy’s ass. He’s still sensitive, and his whines and breathing are clear signs of it, but he still leans into it, spreads even wider, encouraging. Jake isn’t one to refuse, holds him tight while he comes and comes. 

There’s a minute where he’s nearly sees stars, where he has to recollect himself.

“Damn,” is what Jake settles on between huffs, dazed with it.

Willy laughs drily from under him. “Hope I lived up to the expectation.”

Jake pulls out slowly, careful to mind Willy’s tells. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He strips the condom, ties it off. He still feels a little like jelly, but he’s good enough to walk it over to the wastebasket, grabs the box of tissues on the way back.

Willy lets him wipe him clean as much as he can, even if more of his come gets rubbed into his skin rather than off of it. Willy doesn’t seem to mind, though, content to just soak up the attention with it. 

Jake finishes off, wipes himself down, too, and goes back to throw out the tissues.

“You can stay if you want,” Willy says along the way, propping his head up with an elbow. “I’m a pretty great cuddler,” he grins, but then makes a considering face. “But I know some guys aren’t into that part.”

“Are you into that part?”

Willy shrugs. “Won’t say no.”

So it’s an easy decision, then. Jake came with the duty to take care of this team, and maybe this isn’t they type of ‘taking care’ they were thinking of, but Jake’s been around enough to know what’s best here. Besides, not that he’d ever admit it, but. He kind of likes the cuddling part.

So Jake crawls back into Willy’s bed, gets an arm around him. It’s nice, the way Willy immediately latches onto him, presses close into him and buries his face in his chest.

It’s good and, well, Jake thinks he can really get used to this whole Maple Leaf thing.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I don't make this shit up out of nowhere yall, here's your photo evidence: [jake muzzin's famous giant dick](https://twitter.com/SavageAuston34/status/1090048932179206144)
> 
> find more nonsense on my twitter @[pinkmanite](http://www.twitter.com/pinkmanite) lol


End file.
